


Regret is Red

by Skainsmate



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Injuries, Pining, Sad Sans, Swearing, Underfell Sans, but it gets sad, happy ending... kinda?, reader is gender neutral but leans feminine, some edgy skele for all you guys, was a oneshot, will now be three chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skainsmate/pseuds/Skainsmate
Summary: His love revolved around something.But it wasn't you.





	1. Love Is Red

**Author's Note:**

> * here's a little one-shot for your reading pleasures c: i wanted to write uf! sans for a long time and i had this idea - it initially wasn't supposed to be this angsty but i kinda went overboard... lol. hope i did the edge some justice. as a note, there is swearing and some blood! just wanted to mention in case the tags were not acknowledged. 
> 
> * anyways! i hope you enjoy! :)

  
  


******

  
  


“you seem lonely, dollface. mind some company?"

 

Your body instantly swiveled to meet the owner of the gravelly voice, coming face to face with a living skeleton. His red eyes glowed in the dim light of the bar, and so obviously dragged their way up and down your form. A single gold tooth stood out with its razor sharp companions, seeming to glint the wider the monster spread his snarky smile. Dressed in edgy clothes that consisted of a red and black jacket, shorts, and ratty gym shoes, this guy just screamed bad news. Was that also… a  _ gold chain _ around his neck?

 

You see, you were smarter than this. Guys had come up to you before, in much more suspicious ways no less, and you were able to see right through them. If this was any other day at the bar, you would’ve said “fuck off” and went on your merry way. You generally weren’t afraid of anyone. 

 

However, this guy really wasn’t settling with you as the “easy to get rid off” type. Maybe it was because he was a monster? But you didn’t have any qualms about them. You were at a monster bar, anyways. What was it then? That he was a skeleton? That he dwarfed you in size? That he was eyeing you in a way that made you feel like he was staring straight into your soul?

 

In the time these thoughts whirled around your head, Mr. Edgy Skeleton already had his claw-like phalanges clasped over a mustard bottle. His other hand clicked away at the wood of the bar, tapping a silent beat. 

 

“what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?” He gave you a sultry look, eyelids lowered to gaze deeply at you.

 

You huffed lightly, turning your attention back to your drink. “Even if I was lonely, I don’t think I’d seek out  _ your _ kind of company.” You replied sassily.

 

Again, you didn’t like to cause trouble. You never did. But something about this skeleton makes you want to push him around until his breaking point. 

 

He double-taked at you in shock before guffawing, slamming his hand on the table to punctuate his laughter. “wow! spicy, aren’t ya? no wonder you got nobody sitting here.”

 

To your dismay, he seated himself directly next to you, close enough that your shoulders could brush if you shifted just a bit to the right. You wrinkled your nose when the faint smell of smoke and condiments drifted your way.

 

Completely ignoring you, the skeleton gestured towards the flaming bartender, “ay, grillbz, why don’t ya get me and the lady another drink?”

 

The other monster huffed indignantly, casting the skeleton a smoldering gaze before disappearing in the back. 

 

You merely continued to swirl the ice around in your empty glass, waiting for the opportunity to slip out. You certainly could have done so earlier, but there was something about this skeleton that made you strangely curious. And so, you waited. (Plus, you were getting a free drink). 

 

It was quiet for a few moments. All the monster did was continue to tap the tips of phalanges into the bar. He stared straight ahead - almost like he was contemplating something - and then turned his skull towards you again. “i haven’t seen you around, you come here often?”

 

Such a simple, innocent question, really. Yet you still got slightly annoyed that he asked you such a cliche. “No. I usually just come when I want a nice drink and to take my mind off things.”

 

You answered honestly, at least. Why you were going to such far lengths for this skeleton was beyond you.

 

He breathed out a sigh between his teeth, slouching onto the wood. “huh. looks like we got something in common already. except, you know, i practically live here.”

 

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, almost immediately turning away when you met that piercing gaze. Grillby set both of your drinks onto the table just then, distracting the skeleton from you. The ice clinked in the freshly refilled glass, and you drew it close to you, eager for something to chase away the chills that just erupted across your body.

 

You should have realized it then. Before everything happened.

  
  


Red is a dangerous color.

  
  


******

  
  


Mr. Edgy Skeleton had a name. Sans.

 

You found that out after several more nights spent at the bar. He was already there, sipping at his mustard before your every visit. 

 

Despite every fiber of being warning you to stay away from him, you found yourself slowly becoming attracted. 

 

He was funny, had a bad attitude, had the  _ loveliest _ voice - especially when it grated low on the air, and (surprisingly) he was a nice guy to talk with. He was much more intelligent than he initially seemed, and you two often had meaningful conversations well into the night. It was hard to resist.

 

Often times you forced yourself to stay home, your mind overruling the deepest part of your heart telling you to go. You felt it - the fear, the anxiety. But you also felt giddy - like a schoolgirl who just found out she was sitting next to her crush in class. It was disorienting and confusing, but when you finally met up with Sans again, everything cleared up.

 

Regardless, a month progressed and your acquaintanceship soon developed into a companionship. You exchanged numbers with him and texted him on a regular basis. ‘What are you doing?’, ‘How’s it going?’ Sans also had an affinity for punning, and he’d send long scripts of jokes to you because he knew that they pissed you off. 

 

It was simple and safe. 

 

However, like everything else in the universe, this relationship had entropy. Your feelings would soon escalate and then this small “companionship” would become something unwanted. You weren’t expecting things to be reciprocated. Being a realistic person, you knew it just doesn’t happen like a fairytale and you accepted that. You just hoped you two could stay friends, because no matter how poorly you thought of him in the beginning, he was a great friend.

 

And a great friend was all you needed.

  
  


******

  
  
  


You gasped as familiar teeth dragged across your tender lips, the sharp tips digging into your flesh before pulling away. It was slow and sensual, a swipe of the tongue here and there, a parting of your own lips so that you could draw them over the expanse of smooth bone that you were kissing. There was a short pause as he allowed his breath to fan your cheek before he changed course. One of his hands tangled up with the hair at the nape of your neck - the other cascaded down your sides and underneath your shirt. He made a show of squeezing the flesh of your hips until it gathered in his fingers, and then he moved his phalanges until they neatly rested on your lower back.

 

Your face bloomed with warmth as he nipped at the open juncture of your neck, and despite your very best efforts at not to make noise, you let out a small whimper as he continued to move along your exposed skin. You could feel his grin widen, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest cavity as came across a particularly sensitive spot.

 

You lost yourself, drifting away into an abyss of pleasure and happiness. Sans continued to press kisses into your skin, biting here and there before pulling back completely to meet your eyes. His skull glowed, reflected by the red light coming from the billboard outside your window. His own irises dilated to the margins of his eye sockets, the sight rather comical on such a scary-looking skeleton.

 

“love ya,” he whispered, causing a rock to shoot up into your throat. You smiled back at him, conveying the words by sneaking another solid kiss to his teeth. He laughed again and buried you into his much larger embrace, shielding you from the outside, and enveloping you with a comfort that you hadn’t ever felt before. 

  
  


******

  
  


_ It was nice while it lasted, _ you thought to yourself.

 

Sitting on your bed, you glance out at the sleepy city, watching distant streetlamps flicker on and off. The red light drowned your bedroom again with its rich hue, turning everything to shades of black and scarlet. Starting to become sick of it, you gripped your curtains and yanked them closed, instantly meeting the inky darkness of the night.

 

Not even bothering to shed your work clothes, you slunk into bed and huddled underneath the blankets, desperately trying to fall asleep. No matter what you did, images of what you saw kept popping up into your head. 

 

Long story short, you and Sans hadn’t worked out like you had hoped. 

 

After a while, he became bored. That was as accurately as you could describe it. Sans had his own problems - problems that you guessed stemmed from before the time he had even stepped foot on the surface. You understood that he needed his space - that he had demons he didn’t want to talk about. But, it appeared that - no matter how much reassurance he gave you - he never quite got rid of them.

 

It was Sans that told you he wanted to break up. You remained strong up until the point you got home and actually took sight of your empty apartment. 

 

It was hard, really hard. Not only had you lost someone special, you had also lost a friend. You respected Sans enough to not go after and pester him - but that didn’t stop you from smashing a few plates and lamps of your own before you got ahold of your scattered feelings.

 

Maybe you should have put up a fight - asked why you weren’t good enough to warrant an explanation.

 

Maybe you would have, if Sans had given you a chance. 

 

You hadn’t bothered to go back to Grillby’s, but the skeleton acted like he disappeared off the face of the earth. You hadn’t seen a glimpse of him until a month later, when you spotted him hanging out with a bunch of girls inside the bar. What compelled you to pass by that restaurant you’ll never know, but maybe it was a sign of the heavens saying “I told you so.” Ignoring the searing flare of jealousy in your chest, you went home. 

 

_ It’s going to take a while, but you’ll get over it. _ You told yourself. 

 

You only succeeded in huddling further into the blankets.

  
  


******

  
  
  


You slept fitfully. It took an hour for you to fall into slumber, and when you did, you were haunted by strange images of gray doors and barred windows. 

 

At about three in the morning, right when you were about to be eaten by a hideous bird, a sudden loud banging shook you out of your nightmares. You bolted upright almost instantly, eyes wide in fear at the sound.

 

It continued for several seconds, echoing through your room in a staccato. Even though it was dark, you were able to deduce it was coming from your front door. Drawing your blankets near yourself, you listened for when it paused. It stopped only for a good minute before starting up again, and you promptly slipped out of your bed and into the kitchen. While there, you grabbed the first weapon that came to mind.

 

The knife gleamed in the low light as you approached the door, raised against the relentless pounding. If it was some sort of weirdo, of course you wouldn’t open it! But, it wouldn’t hurt to look through the peephole. Besides, at this rate, this guy was going to wake up the whole complex with his incessant pounding - which was more of a slam by now.

 

You breathed slowly and calmed your movements so that you could lean slightly against the door. Just as you were about to peek into the glass, a  _ very _ familiar gruff voice spoke out.

 

“sweetheart? i know you’re there.”

 

You felt your heart take a plunge into your stomach. Eye pressed against the peephole, you took sight of the skeleton. He appeared to be resting against the wall with one hand supporting him. You could hear his labored breaths with the sudden silence. It really was him. Standing there.  _ At your door. _

 

Sans.

 

“listen,” he wheezed, “... i know you were sleepin’ but…”

 

You shook your head, pulling back. Already you could feel your anger bubbling in your throat.  _ The nerve of this guy! _ Did he think he could just waltz back here, like nothing had ever happened? Like he had never left you all alone?

 

You squeezed the handle of the knife in your hand, about to backtrack into the kitchen. But, a faint. hoarse whisper came from the barrier in front of you. 

 

“please… i-i’m in some trouble....”

 

You wanted to whirl around and pierce that knife through the goddamn wall. You wanted to tear that door open and curse Sans out with all your might, then promptly kick his ass down the stairs. You wanted to tell him you were furious, that you were sad… and that you missed him. 

 

You did neither of those things.

 

Instead, you returned the knife to its place in the kitchen and came back to your front door. Painstakingly, you rested your hands on the double locks and carefully pulled them loose. Despite willingly opening the door, you stilled peer over the edge, taking in the skeleton much clearly. What you saw made your eyes widen.

 

Sans was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was still panting, drawing a hand over his perspiring skull repeatedly. His jacket was ruffled and dirty, like he had rolled around with it on the ground. There were some fresh tears in it too. 

 

What shocked you most was the crack in his skull - it ran from the edge of his right eye socket and trailed behind his head. It was leaking red marrow. 

 

His faint eye lights watched you warily, his other hand now raised in the air between you. “h-hey… mind if i come in?”

 

You wordlessly moved aside and disappeared beyond the door. Sans shuffled in, taking tender steps. 

 

Once you had the door shut and locked again, you turned to face the skeleton. He was shifting from side to side, obviously uncomfortable - but you didn’t know if that was because of pain or the fact that he was  _ here _ with  _ you. _

 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Your voice was soft and gentle, probably the complete opposite of what Sans was expecting, since his gaze snapped up in surprise. The red glow of his eyes was a dim, yet warm light in the room.

 

Without waiting for his answer, you broke that short eye-contact and proceeded to go to your bathroom. You could hear Sans limping along, his short grunts the only sound that alerted you to his presence.

 

You flitted around for a few minutes, trying to find the first aid kit (which you did misplace, by the way, but moving around restlessly was a good way to prolong the time you would have to confront him). When you finally came back into the bathroom, Sans was seated on the toilet cover, face buried into his hands. He meekly looked up when you walked back in, but you remained cold and indifferent, pushing away his hands as you took out the supplies.

 

Besides the slight hiss he gave when you pressed antiseptic to his bleeding skull, Sans didn't say anything, and neither did you. The air was thick with something… anticipation? Whatever it was, it was driving you crazy, and you were very close to spilling everything to the skeleton then and there. You were gently touching the bone of his skull, his scuffed phalanges - everything that you had touched before with such affection. Now, you were dragging a cotton ball over his wounds, in a completely different context this time around.

 

_ You weren’t together anymore. _

 

This thought hit you while in the middle of wrapping up his skull. You weren’t together and you couldn’t place a kiss on his forehead or nuzzle against his chest. You had to act like you weren’t worried - but you  _ were. _ Your heart constricted at Sans’ every pained sigh. Your anxiety increased tenfold at every new cut you found. Who had done this to him? Who had hurt him so badly? It almost made you sick. 

 

By the end of it all, your hands were shaking from the effort. Kneeling on the linoleum floor, you meticulously packed up the rest of the first-aid kit, fiddling with the few remaining items as if to extend the minutes along. 

 

A quiet intake of breath took your attention away from the kit. Turning back towards Sans, your body instantly felt the icy twinge of guilt. Shoulders hunched, Sans had his left hand pressed against his eye socket, but couldn’t prevent the big fat tears that rolled out from them. Eyelids squeezed shut, he pathetically weeped away. One short cry giving away to endless sobbing. 

 

You didn’t know what to do. You’ve never seen Sans so…  _ broken. _ He had always been a strong, arrogant individual, even in your relationship. He would have rather died than to have someone seeing him acting so weak. 

 

The fact that he was here, tears streaming down his face, torn up and injured, hurt and  _ in pain - _

 

You stood up and embraced him, before your brain could convince you otherwise. He immediately buried his skull into stomach, still seated on the toilet. His sobs came much harder, to the point where they were soaking your shirt. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes, feeling his own snake around your waist and pull you close. Between his gasps, a stream of unintelligible words came out. Several, however, stood out to you, and you could feel your own tears well up behind your eyelids in response. 

 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry…”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  



	2. The Heart Is Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from time to time we fall in line  
> but now it seems that we are blind  
> no one knows that's how it goes  
> all the thoughts that we transpose
> 
> \- bad suns, "transpose"

He missed you.

 

In the silence of your living room, he was forced to listen to nothing as you mechanically brought out two cups of hot tea. The action should have warmed his soul, but he knew that you only did this out of courtesy, as he learned within the few months you’ve been together. If it was someone special, you might have added a tin of sugar to the table, or offered a drink of another choosing. But now, you were on a very thin line with him - nothing more than an acquaintance that used to know you on a deep, personal level. Someone you used to share your secrets with. 

 

_ Hah. He didn’t even fit the title of acquaintance now. _

 

His chest clenched in a brief flash of pain.

 

Your movements drew his attention away from his heartache. Sans watched as you carefully settled the cups on the placemat, meticulously arranging things around. He gulped heavily, shifting his eyes away from the familiarity of it all. 

 

You hadn’t changed in the slightest. 

 

The red light from the billboard outside your window didn’t reach when you had the curtains drawn. The material was heavy enough to block it out. However, for some reason, you had left your windows open tonight. The curtains swung with the soft breeze, and the red light poured in. You were bathed in crimson, the color highlighting your tired eyes and soft form. Sans had always thought you looked good in red.

 

You said nothing, and neither did he.

 

But, he kept glancing over, his eyes lingering on the way you brought the mug to your lips. How you slowly sipped, the sound deafening in the quiet room. You had your eyes closed, likely to savor the flavor of the tea, lashes fluttering as you looked anywhere else but at him. 

 

Sans breathed out, leaning back into couch. He couldn’t help notice that you had moved to the farthest edge, almost perched on the arm of the furniture. He swallowed his tea with an unnatural fervor, likely to douse the hurt that filled his ribs. He deserved it - the feeling of guilt, the  _ pain. _ He made a huge mistake and now he knew he couldn’t fix it. 

 

And yet, he dared come back to your apartment. He  _ dared _ asking for your help again. And you accepted him, like the kind soul he knew you were. Sans didn’t know who else he could have turned to, and to his despair, it had to be  _ you. _ His feet subconsciously made their way back to your place before he realized what was happening.

 

_ What has he done? _

 

Apparently, you were sick of the silence, because you had reached for the remote and started scrolling through channels on the TV. Sans was grateful for something to focus on, but it was difficult enough to tear his thoughts from you when you were sitting  _ right there. _ There was so much he wanted to say, wanted to explain - and the words were stubborn to come.

 

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, just blankly watching the TV. Your slight movements were the only sounds he paid attention to. You still hadn’t spoken at all. He had finished his tea with his second gulp and now struggled to find something for his trembling hands to do. The crack in his skull was better now, but the distant throbbing timed rhythmically with his restless soul. 

 

“If you have something you want to say, do it now.”

 

Your voice startled him. Sans almost jumped a full three feet in the air, his claw-like phalanges gripping his tattered shorts. 

 

Turning his body, he was met with the sight of your glowing eyes, illuminated by the light of the TV. Your face betrayed your emotions - sadness, apprehension,  _ concern- _

 

Sans clenched his teeth together, his usually suave composure shattering into something much more fragile… and  _ raw. _

 

“i… don’t…” he fought for the right words, but they failed to reach his mouth. The emotions in your eyes shifted. 

 

“You seemed to have plenty to say in the bathroom.”

 

Sans felt himself go rigid. His skull flushed a color so red, it matched the light from the billboard. He could feel his face burning and the pinpricks of his eyes widening to the margins of his undamaged socket. Like the weight of the sky had dropped on him, his body sagged forward, shoulders shrugging until it hid most of his face.

 

“... i hurt you.” He forced out. “i hurt you and you still let me in here and patched me up. i don’t know what you saw in me in the first place. i’m a piece o’ work. trash even. a lousy excuse for a monster. always have been, and always will be.”

 

The light in his remaining eye flickered out, but he drew his hand over it, lowering his shoulders in turn. He continued, while he still had the guts to. If he saw your face he might never keep going ever again. “i fucked up. i didn’t tell ya… i didn’ tell ya the things that were eatin’ me. i didn’ wanna hurt you. but, in the end, it was keepin’ secrets that really screwed everythin’ up after all.”

 

By the the time he finished, Sans was slurring his words, the emotion heavy on his voice. He stayed still, clenching his hand around his socket and gritting his teeth. There wasn’t a peep from you.

 

Until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

 

Almost instantly, he drew his hand away and caught your gaze. Your eyes were filming, tears threatening to fall at the end of your lashes. Sans’ soul felt like it had drop kicked him. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and the sympathetic look he was getting… he doesn’t  _ deserve _ it! 

 

He almost pulled away, almost. You had leaned in and pressed your face against the front of Sans’ jacket before he could. Your warmth drew him in, and while he hesitated to rest his arms over you, you beckoned by wrapping your own around  _ him. _ Shocked, Sans was once again left confused and silent. Your soft murmurs drifted up from your place against him.

 

“You idiot,” you sniffled, your hold tightening on him, “why didn’t you just tell me? Why did you have to go a-and hide? I was so worried about you.”

 

Sans couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed you and fully tucked you against him, letting out a choked sob of his own. He felt like an asshole, a massive one. The fact that after all this time, you had been  _ worried _ about him… and all he had done was make you cry.  _ He was, and still is, a fool. _

 

But this time, he was here for you. Sans stroked your hair back, pressed his skull tenderly against your own, and allowed your moment of frustration. 

 

You both stayed there, long after the sun rose up past your building and dappled the red light away.

  
  
  


******

  
  


As much as Sans wished things returned to the way they used to be, it hadn’t happened quite like that. You stayed in touch with him, invited him into your home to watch a show, went out for coffee occasionally. 

 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

 

It pained him physically as much as mentally to see you so reserved around him once again. While you had forgiven him, you remained the same way you were as when the both of you first met. 

 

He still lingered, regardless.

 

One day, he accompanied you to the store. You said that you had wanted some company and he had happily obliged. Being your day off, you seemed to be in a better mood, humming quietly as you selected some dry pasta off the shelf, obviously lost in your thoughts. Sans just took the chance to observe you, letting his eyes track your movements as you grabbed necessities.

 

“Does Papyrus still cook for you?” You asked out of nowhere. 

 

He stiffened, a little put-off by the question. “yeah,” he grumbled, “he got better at it, though.”

 

You smiled, a sight that made his soul brighten. “Pfft. Never thought I’d hear that.”

 

Sans managed a small grin of his own, helping you reach an item off one of the taller shelves. “trust me, neither did i.” 

 

You stared at him for a moment, eyes wavering at his own. He shifted uncomfortably, but didn't move away or break the contact. Whatever had passed over you had disappeared just as quickly. You chuckled and tossed the items into the cart. “How did you even survive off of his cooking?” 

 

He tapped a claw to his chin, “ya know, i gotta be honest, the times i wasn't at grillby’s i usually just chucked the food somewhere, made him think i ate it.”

 

Sans shivered at the thought of Papyrus catching him. While his brother was the type to get furious over such a thing, Sans was more concerned with how sad it would've made him feel. And his brother reacted badly to his own sadness. So, he stuck with the horrendous cooking all those years in the Underground. 

You giggled. “That is so like you.” 

 

Sans expression softened as you turned away from him to push the cart. He didn't let you catch him looking lovingly at you anymore. 

 

_ At least,  _ he reassured himself,  _ at least he still had you around. _

 

Things were okay for the rest of the trip. Sans provided his help and company and you kept him up to date on some of the stuff at your job. Apparently, Susan found some dirt on Deborah’s cookie recipe and it turned out she copied it from the Internet. All in day’s work, you had said, obviously expressing distaste for your PTA-mom coworkers. He didn't even understand how a government office job could be so…. gossip-y.

 

It wasn't until you got to the cashier that things went to shit. 

 

Well, more like his  _ ego _ went to shit.

 

There was a guy by the register, a good-looking one by human standards, he supposed. But that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was the way he  _ looked _ at you.

 

His blue eyes brightened, widening when you approached. Almost immediately he stood ramrod straight and grinned at you. “Hey there, long time no see!”

 

And you  _ smiled back. _

 

“Hi, Jamie! How's it been going?”

 

“Ah, as good as can be. Paying off student loans, you know the deal,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but Sans could spot his nervousness from a mile away. His hands curled into fists in his pockets.

 

“Ha, well I can't say I'm not familiar with that.” You started unloading your groceries onto the desk, completely oblivious to Sans’ sudden dark expression. The skeleton purposely gravitated closer, looming over you to cast his glare at Jamie. His scowl widened when Jamie glanced up, fear evident in his eyes. He looked like prey trapped in a corner by a predator - and Sans  _ relished _ that look. 

 

Making sure all his razor-teeth were on display, he lightly bumped into you to get your attention. “mind introducing me?” his voice graveled out, all while staring mercilessly at Jamie. 

 

You blinked up at him, gasping lightly, “Oh right, sorry about that. Jamie, this is Sans. Sans, that's Jamie. I met him a little while back when he helped me find something in the store.” 

 

It seemed his intimidation tactic was working, because Jamie had almost completely shrunk back into the counter. “Ah…” he breathed, “n-nice to meet you, Sans.” 

 

He nodded in return, smugness apparent in his face. Sans hoped he got the message. 

 

The rest of the encounter went smoothly. Jamie stuttered out a price and you paid. Grabbing a couple bags each, you said your goodbyes and the both of you went on your merry way. 

 

It wasn't until he got back to the apartment that you turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

 

“What was that?” 

 

He paused. “what was what?”

 

You gave him that look, the one where you made it known you were completely aware of his bullshit. “You know what I’m talking about.”

 

Sans scratched at his skull, glancing away from your accusing glare. “still don’t know what you mean, doll.”

 

_ Doll. _

 

Shit. 

 

Your face completely shifted - lips tightening into a thin line, you furrowed your brows and cast your eyes downwards. “I’m not yours to be jealous of anymore, Sans.”

 

He balked, holding up his hands as if to placate your growing displeasure. “listen, i-i didn’t mean to say that, i swear-”

 

The look you gave him melted his soul. He could feel his ribcage squeeze around the bubbling anxiety within his chest. Your eyes pleaded with him, a broken light that had once gazed at him with affection and warmth.

 

And he had destroyed all that.

 

Sans was numb. His bones somehow made it to your door and let himself out. He found himself standing outside your apartment for a few more moments, as if waiting for something to happen. Waiting for you to come out and tell him to go back inside.

 

_ Foolish, _ murmured that dark voice in his head. _ You have always been foolish. _

  
  
  


Dragging himself away from the wall, he shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged his way back home. 

  
  
  


Unbeknownst to him, you were leaning against your door the entire time, listening carefully. A hand came up to cover your mouth as you heard his retreating footsteps.

  
  


*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * finally FINALLY AFTER SUCH A LONG WAIT I FINISHED :,) i apologize for how long this next installment took. i was so surprised by the amount of need for the next chapter that i needed to make sure this next one was as good as can be""
> 
> * but really, thank you all for your wonderful support. you guys make me so happy :) i really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. like many of you wanted, i wrote this all in sans' pov!! the next chapter will have more of your questions answered concerning sans' past and his reasons for the breakup, i promise! all in due time.... mwuahah
> 
> * what are your thoughts? think they'll get back together? id love to hear your opinions!! also please let me know if there are any typos, i proof read but tend to miss things.
> 
> * thank you all so much once again!! i promise the next one wont take so long!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> * not really angst with a happy ending but maybe??? depending on how you look at it???
> 
> * either way, i hope you all enjoyed it!! leave me feedback if you have it! i always appreciate it~
> 
> * my tumblr: www.skainswrites.tumblr.com
> 
> *in case you have a question or have a request!


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